


Divergent Thinking

by Spacecadet72



Series: Living Proof [2]
Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Harlan Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23627773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: Harlan listens to Marta and allows her to call for an ambulance.
Relationships: Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera, Marta Cabrera & Harlan Thrombey
Series: Living Proof [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700794
Comments: 23
Kudos: 232





	1. Marta

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely more ship focused than case focused, mostly because it's me, but partly because we already know who did it and how and why. :)

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Marta’s voice shook, tears streaming down her face as she explained to the operator what had happened. She knew that it was likely the ambulance wouldn’t get there in time, but she couldn’t not try to save him, couldn't not try to fix her mistake.

After she hung up, she sat in front of Harlan, trying to ignore the sad look in his eyes. She would need to monitor his symptoms for when the EMTs arrived.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at the time. If she had it right, he should start feeling symptoms by now, but he looked fine. Some people were better at hiding symptoms than others, but death by morphine overdose wasn’t pretty.

“I feel fine, actually,” he said, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Shouldn’t I be feeling something by now?”

Marta nodded. “Full symptom onset is at five minutes, which should be now,” she said, checking the time again, and wondering why Harlan still looked as fine as he did five minutes ago.

“Maybe you didn’t mix them up?” he asked, after three more minutes had passed, and still no sign of any symptoms.

Marta took in a deep breath, trying to calm her mind so she could remember. “No, I’m sure I mixed them up, I don’t know why you’re not feeling anything yet.”

Not even ten minutes later, amid the uproar from the other Thrombey’s, the EMTs looked over Harlan and declared him completely healthy.

“But how is that possible?” Marta asked, as they finished their examination. “I gave him 100 mg of morphine.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” one of the EMTs said, turning her head to glance at Marta who stood behind them. “But there’s no way he has that much morphine in his system. Not if you injected it when you said you did.”

Marta felt a wave of emotions course through her: relief, confusion, embarrassment, dread, all coming at once. “Maybe you were right Harlan, maybe I didn’t mix them up after all,” she said, wishing she had realized that twenty minutes ago and saved them all the pain and confusion.

Harlan didn’t look convinced. In fact, he had what Marta thought of as his ‘mystery face’ on, the expression he had when working through a puzzle in one of his books.

“What is it?” she asked, biting her lip as she tried not to pace.

“What if you did mix up the bottles, but not the medication?” he asked, slowly, raising his head to meet her eyes.

“What do you mean?” She suspected what he was saying, but she wasn’t sure she could take any more tonight.

“I mean that someone tried to frame you for my murder by switching the drugs in the vials,” Harlan said, his face stony. There were very few people who would have had access, and most of them were downstairs and relatives.

“Murder?” Marta repeated numbly.

Harlan nodded.

“We’ll want to take him in just to be safe,” the EMT said, and Marta nodded, her mind still whirling with the possibility that someone tried to kill Harlan and frame her for it.

“We’ll figure this out,” Harlan said, squeezing her hand as he passed, and after gathering her medical supplies, Marta followed behind, ignoring the questions from the Thrombey’s and getting into her car to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

Harlan was fine. If she had really injected him with that much morphine, he would have been dead by now, and she had just seen him get into the ambulance, alive and well.

What had happened?

* * *

“They’ve given me a clean bill of health,” Harlan said as he found Marta in the waiting room. It was well past midnight now, and all she wanted was to do was go to bed, and wake up to find all of this over.

She stood up and gave him a hug, grateful that her friend was still here. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said as he hugged her gently back.

“You did everything right,” he said, as he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “You saved me.”

Marta nodded, feeling nothing but exhausted and overwhelmed.

“It’s too late now, but tomorrow there will be some calls to make. We will get to the bottom of this,” he said as they walked out of the hospital.

“The police?” Marta asked, as she shrugged her coat back on.

Harlan nodded. “There’s someone else too, the son of an old friend who I think can help. But all that can wait until tomorrow.”

Linda was there to drive Harlan home, and while Marta would have liked to see him all the way to his house, she knew she was too tired to drive there and back home. She needed sleep.

Once she got home, her head barely had time to hit the pillow before she was dreaming of murder and death and all the things that could have gone wrong.

* * *

Marta wasn’t sure what she had expected of Harlan’s friend’s son, but it wasn’t this Southern gentleman private detective, with a voice slow and smooth like molasses and a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

“Benoit,” Harlan greeted warmly as they met in his study with the police a couple of days later.

“It is good to meet you in person, Harlan,” Mr. Blanc said, as he walked into the room. “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

“It could have been much worse,” Harlan pointed out, and Mr. Blanc inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“You are right there,” he said before turning to Marta, his hand extended. “You must be Harlan’s nurse,” he said, his tone friendly, but she could tell he was already investigating.

She nodded and shook his hand. “Marta Cabrera.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Cabrera,” he said, his eyes on hers as he took his hand back. “I’m Benoit Blanc.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, taken aback slightly by his gaze trained so steadily on hers.

He nodded slightly before turning to Lieutenant Elliott and Trooper Wagner, greeting them before moving to stand near her, where he could see everyone, his attention now on Harlan.

Harlan was giving her a look she couldn’t quite interpret, before he moved his gaze to Mr. Blanc. “I would like this solved as quickly as possible,” he said, his hands folded in front of him. “If there is someone who wants to harm me, and Marta, I would like to know who it is.”

Lt. Elliott nodded, stepping forward slightly as he spoke. “We tested the vials and the medications were definitely switched. This was deliberate.”

They had been working under that assumption, but knowing that it was true that someone had tried to kill Harlan, had tried to use her to do it, hit Marta all at once and she reached out for one of the chairs to steady herself.

Everyone moved toward her in concern, but Mr. Blanc was closest and he put his hands gently on her arms. “Ms. Cabrera, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” His voice was soft and soothing, and she focused on the way his mouth moved as he formed the words.

She shook her head. “I just need a minute,” she said, her words coming out breathier than she intended.

He walked with her to the nearest chair, helped her sit gently, and crouched in front of her, watching her intently.

It wasn’t quite a panic attack, but she focused on her breathing, and kept her eyes on his, his gaze keeping her tethered. After a few moments, she nodded, feeling embarrassed as everyone watched. “I’m alright, I’m sorry.”

Mr. Blanc shook his head. “It is quite alright, it’s a lot to take in,” he said as he stood. He watched her for a moment as if to make sure she was really okay, before turning his attention back to the room at large. “How soon can the family be gathered?”

Marta listened as the conversation continued, but she couldn’t get his eyes out of her mind.


	2. Benoit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation continues and Harlan has a plot of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter, after this is a shorter epilogue from Harlan's POV.
> 
> This whole story is fairly short, but I do have ideas for more, set during and after this fic, so there will be more after this. :)

Benoit sat at the back of the library, next to the piano while Lt. Elliott and Trooper Wagner interviewed each of the family. They had elected to keep it to the investigators while doing these initial interviews.

Almost everyone in the family had a motive, as Harlan had been cleaning house the day of the party. And while Benoit hadn’t eliminated anyone as a suspect, who he really wanted to talk to was Ransom, who had elected not to come in for questioning. He was the only one who knew that Harlan had decided to make Marta his sole heir.

If he knew of the slayer rule, as Benoit guessed he did, it made him the main suspect. They would get him in for questioning, but not until after they had talked to the rest of the family first.

They had already gotten Harlan and Marta’s perspectives, but he knew he would need to talk to them again, as the last family member, Joni, walked out of the room.

It had been an interesting call to get from Harlan, wanting to hire Benoit to find out who had wanted him dead.

While his father had known and respected Harlan, he had never had the pleasure of meeting him before now. Part of him wished the meeting could have been due to a reason other than an attempted murder, but it was fascinating seeing Harlan’s mind in action. He was sharp and would have made a fine detective if he had ever decided to change careers.

“Well, that wasn’t very helpful,” Lt. Elliott said with a sigh.

Benoit stood and nodded as he walked closer to the other two men, flipping a coin into the air. “You are right, we are unlikely to find our culprit in the family here, but I wanted to get an overall picture.”

“We should let Harlan and Marta know we’re done,” Trooper Wagner said, the look of starry eyed awe still on his face. He was a good officer, if a little inexperienced. But he would get there.

They walked to the study, where they knew Harlan and Marta would be waiting. Both of them looked up as the three of them walked into the room. Marta’s eyes caught his, and he had to force himself to look away after shooting her a friendly smile.

Harlan had insisted that she be a part of the investigation, which Benoit would have suggested after not too long anyway. She had proven to be clever and quick witted, and she was as familiar with the family as Harlan. She also had medical knowledge the rest of them lacked.

She was also incredibly kind hearted and achingly _good._ This drew him in as much as her wide hazel eyes and soft mouth. She was beautiful, but she was basically a client and not interested. She was friendly, but she was that way with everyone. It would not do to let a small schoolboy crush get out of hand.

“Marta,” Harlan said, bringing Benoit out of his thoughts. “Why don’t you take Benoit up to my rooms to see if you can find anything we missed while I talk to Lt. Elliott and Trooper Wagner here?”

Marta turned to look at Harlan, and while Benoit couldn’t see her face, from the expression on Harlan’s they were having a non verbal conversation that Harlan found amusing.

She turned to face Benoit with a friendly, if somewhat forced smile. Whatever she and Harlan had communicated had left her stressed.

“If we need to wait, we can,” Benoit said, not wanting to cause her distress. Especially if the cause of that distress was being alone with him.

“It’s alright,” Marta said, already walking out the study door. “Harlan gets what Harlan wants,” she murmured as they stepped out into the hall.

“And what does Harlan want this time?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her face, wondering what exactly was going on.

She shook her head. “We should get upstairs,” she said before walking ahead of him.

While he was curious, he didn’t press. He had learned about her unique reaction to lying soon after meeting her, fortunately without a demonstration, and he didn’t want to force her to do something that would cause her pain. If it became an issue, he would ask Harlan.

Benoit looked around Harlan’s bedroom once they arrived upstairs, and nothing looked out of place. “Do you usually keep your medical bag here?”

Marta nodded. “I keep it with Harlan, usually right here,” she said, pointing at a spot near the bedroom door. “I took it after we called the ambulance. I didn’t want anyone else messing with it.”

“That was smart,” he said, with a nod, while looking around the room.

“Do you see anything?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her. She stood by the door, her hands clasped together, and he had to push down feelings of attraction as he noticed not for the first time, just how beautiful she was.

He shook his head. “No, and I’m not sure what Harlan expected we would find. The police have already been through here, and inspected all the rooms, along with the trick window and the trellis.” That had been Harlan’s idea, to check whether someone had come through that way, instead of the creaky staircase.

He caught the look of embarrassment that flickered across her face. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought Harlan was matchmaking. But that was ridiculous.

But then, looking at Marta’s expression, he noticed the light blush on her face and how she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Harlan didn’t expect us to find anything, did he?” he asked, quietly, stepping closer, but keeping a respectable distance from her, not wanting to crowd her.

Marta shook her head.

Benoit knew this wasn’t as important as the question at hand. Who had wanted Harlan dead and to frame Marta for it? But he was pretty sure he had the answer to that question, and this was just as interesting a mystery.

“Why did he ask you to take me up here, Marta?”

“Please don’t make me say it,” she said, the _please don’t make me lie_ , remaining unspoken.

He nodded and dropped his gaze for a moment, a small smile finding his lips. “Ah.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, blushing harder now. “Harlan is observant, and thinks he’s helping me.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, some awkwardness of his own rising to the surface. “I think Harlan was trying to help me as well.”

She raised her head, looking him in the eye. “Are you saying…” she trailed off, but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips, and hope in her eyes.

He nodded. “I think Harlan noticed interest on both sides, and for my part, his observations were accurate.”

Her smile was more than a hint now and she nodded. What was between them was young and fragile, like gossamer, but he wanted to see if they could make it stronger with time.

“They were on my side as well,” she said, looking at him shyly.

“Marta, when this is all over, would you consider going to dinner with me?” he asked, wondering what he was doing asking out a client while on a case. But he would be damned if he wasted this opportunity, especially when she was looking at him like that.

“Yes.”

He nodded a few times, almost absentmindedly, his own smile growing. “Well then, let’s find out who did this.” He looked around the room once more, wishing he had found a smoking gun. “Maybe they’ll have found prints on the trellis or window.”

Marta’s eyes widened. “We should ask Great Nana. She often sits by the window next to the trellis.”

“Well done, Watson,” he murmured, feeling a swell of affection at her cleverness. “Let’s go talk to Great Nana.”


	3. Harlan (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harlan waits with Marta for Benoit to pick her up for her date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we're at the end. :) This was a fun story to explore, and I'm hoping to keep exploring this verse, so you should be seeing more of this from me.

The bathroom door opened, and Marta stepped out, smoothing down the knee length black dress she was wearing. She bit her lip and looked at Harlan. “How do I look?”

He looked up from his book, a wide smile stretching across his face. “You look beautiful. Benoit isn’t going to know what hit him.” 

Marta blushed and looked down. “It’s not too much?” she asked, fiddling with one of her earrings. Her hair was pulled back, and she was wearing more makeup than she usually did. 

He shook his head. “You look perfect,” he said, standing and walking over to her. “Are you nervous?”

She nodded, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “It’s a good nervous, though.” 

“He could very well be what you need,” he said, thinking of how they had both looked a little awestruck when they first saw each other. They had hidden it well, but Harlan was more observant than most. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said with a small laugh. “It’s just dinner.” 

She had told him about how Benoit had asked her if she would go to dinner with him as soon as they completed the case. After getting a statement from his mother about seeing Ransom climbing the trellis, the police had been able to bring him in for questioning. It had been a long process before Benoit was able to trap him in a lie that once unraveled, proved his guilt. 

Harlan knew that Ransom probably wouldn’t spend too much time behind bars, as he hadn’t actually murdered anyone. He had a good enough lawyer to get off with a light sentence. But his grandson wasn’t welcome in his home anymore, and he was getting similar treatment from his mother. But for now, he would rather focus on the positive. Like the nervous and excited woman standing in front of him. 

“You’re right,” he said, with a nod. “But you never know.” 

“I think I’d like to take this one day at a time,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself.” 

“Fair enough,” Harlan said, taking a step back to follow her downstairs. “I hope it’s a lovely dinner, then.” 

They reached the foyer just as a knock sounded at the door. 

She looked up at him, eyes wide with both eagerness and nervousness in equal measure. With a deep breath, he could see her steeling her nerves before she walked to the door and opened it. 

Benoit stood on the doorstep, in a much more casual sport coat as opposed to his usual suit and tie and Harlan delighted in the reverential look on his face as he took in Marta. “You look beautiful, Marta,” he said, stepping into the house. “Hello, Harlan,” he said with a nod. 

Harlan returned the greeting and Benoit walked over to him as Marta put on her coat and shoes. 

"I don't know that you really needed to call me in," he said as his gaze moved to Marta, "but I'm glad you did."

Harlan chuckled. "I am too,” he said, as Marta looked over at them questioningly. “I won’t keep you,” he told Benoit, who smiled and walked over to Marta, offering her his arm. 

Marta may want to take this one day at a time, but Harlan suspected it would become serious sooner rather than later. After they had driven away, he walked back inside to finish his book. Much of what had come of Ransom’s actions had been horrible, but this was a silver lining he latched onto. Someone should benefit from this awful affair. If anyone deserved it, it was Marta. 

Harlan remembered the looks they had given each other as they left, and smiled to himself. 


End file.
